The Pirate’s Witch
by Candace Smith
Smashwords Edition
Copyright 2010 Candace Smith
Published by Strict Publishing International
Smashwords Edition, License Notes
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Prologue
Windward Passage 1791
The sun beat onto the deck and reflected off the tears spilling down Clarette’s cheeks as she watched the coastline of Haiti until it disappeared. She had left her uncle’s home on the Caribbean island with her six closest friends and was now sailing back to France after what had been a lengthy exile to avoid the unrest that continued in Europe. Her uncle had argued that Haiti would soon be in revolt, as the slaves were well on their way to organizing their impending fight for independence. He had informed Clarette that her parents had already arranged a suitable marriage for her with a man they insisted displayed fine attributes. No argument Clarette had presented would sway her uncle in his decision.
After spending five years on the island and receiving an adequate formal education from a governess… and an even more thorough education in the mystical chanting, drums and dancing from the dark women from Africa that had intrigued her impetuous nature… Clarette’s stubborn petulance was causing her much distress at the thought of returning to France only to be married off to a stranger. Her friends did not share her despondency, and their constant chatter about what their fiancés would look like and their excitement over obtaining the latest Paris fashions, gave her headaches. She longed to be running on the tropical shoreline and splashing barefoot in the warm waves with her skirt hiked up daringly to her knees.
The hurried, last minute addition of the young women to the passenger list had allotted them only two cabins, and they slept three and four to a bed. At dawn, after the first of what she assumed would be many long nights listening to the other girls gossip, Clarette escaped quietly up the ladder to the deck to find the crew in an almost a panicked state. She wandered to the back of the ship and discovered the source of their agitation as she stared at the filled sails and ominous flag of a schooner that was cutting through the rolling waves and approaching quickly.
A hand touched her arm making her jump, and she looked up at the Captain. “Clarette, you must keep the women below deck. Take them to your cabin and lock the door.” The older man’s face was forced into a smile, but his usual dark tan had taken on a sallow appearance.
Clarette pouted and tried to sway the Captain’s order by flashing her turquoise eyes that were already brimming with excitement. “It is but one small pirate ship, Captain. Surely, our greater numbers and cannons can dispatch them quickly.” The only pirates she had seen were the few that had been captured and hanged in Haiti, and they appeared to be a filthy, foul lot, from what she had observed.
The Captain was proud and confident of his new ship and crew, and he reached out and brushed her cheek with his thumb. “I am sure you are right, Clarette, but you do not need to watch this distasteful business. Your friends lack your sense of adventure, and I think you can help keep them calmed. I will send for you when it is safe to come topside.”
Clarette glanced back at the approaching vessel, and then she made her way to the stairs leading to the companionway. She gathered the young women and brought them to her room, carefully bolting the door behind her. The ladies waited anxiously for a long while before they heard loud commotion over their heads. Clarette joined in her friends’ frightened tears, as the screams and curses they heard from the men battling above became unbearable.
Finally the ship was silent, and the girls waited for the Captain to retrieve them from the stifling confines of the cabin. The open porthole admitted woefully little relief from the sweltering heat. The women became anxious as more time passed, and while Clarette wondered if the Captain had forgotten them, she tried to calm her friends. “The Captain is most likely busy making the deck presentable for us,” Clarette tried to reassure them. “It sounded like a fierce fight, so there is probably much that needs to be done, and we should be ready to offer assistance to those that may be injured.”
It was a minor distraction to take the nervous women’s minds off their circumstances. At last, the door latch was tried, and then there was a knock. Clarette pushed away the minor annoyance that the Captain would think she would forget to lock the door. “See, all is right again.” She drew the bolt back and moved towards the desk when it burst open.
Clarette heard screams behind her, perhaps her own was added to the noise, as she stared at the unkempt man. Her eyes were drawn to the cutlass tucked into his sash, and her hand rose to her mouth when she saw the blood.
The pirate stepped back and called down the aisle, “Captain Deegan, I have found an even more tempting treasure.” He returned his excited stare to the women.
Clarette reached behind her and a trembling hand wrapped around her silver letter opener. The first pirate backed out of the doorway and it was immediately filled by a tall, powerfully built man. His dark eyes scanned the women on the bed as they sobbed and pushed back against the wall. Then he saw Clarette, and the smile that crossed his face made her knees begin to buckle.
“I suggest you put your weapon down, unless you would like me to disarm you,” his deep voice resonated. He began to walk towards her and Clarette quickly tossed the ineffectual blade onto the desk, wincing slightly at the clatter. “Johnny, get our unexpected plunder secured and boarded safely onto our ship.” He turned and strode down the dark hall without looking back.
The pirate who had discovered them returned with some thin rough hemp. “If you ladies would be kind enough to hold your hands out to me,” he smirked, and his filthy hand reached for Maria.
Clarette watched her friends wail and hold out their hands to be tied. The man’s back was to her, and she quietly recovered her weapon and edged towards the door. “I would not do that if I were you, miss. The Captain did give his orders.” The pirate had not even bothered to turn to look at her as he continued his chore.
Clarette ran from the room where she saw men down by the hold, engrossed in the act of pillaging the valuables. She dashed up the steps, intent on finding someone who could help her get away on the small launch while the pirates were distracted with their loot. The soft slap of her booted foot when she made her way topside was accompanied by a low chuckle. Clarette felt fingers thread through her hair and stop her forward progress, and she was pulled against a tight broad chest.
“You are a most disobedient, girl. It will be a pleasure to personally punish you,” the deep voice threatened.
Clarette stabbed at his hand with her weapon, and he cursed loudly. With a swift move, he grabbed her wrist and easily wrestled the blade away. “Most disobedient,” he repeated.
Clarette twisted her head in his grip to look up into his dark gaze, and she noted the crinkled lines of amusement furrowed deep into his dark tan. “Perhaps you missed me?” he suggested in a seductive voice.
“Let me go,” Clarette screamed angrily, and she pulled at the hand securing her. She kicked out at him and he laughed, causing the frightened girl to become more frustrated. Deegan pulled her away from the stairs as his men began transferring treasures. Clarette’s eyes widened when she saw the chest of gold and other valuables. Next, her sobbing friends were pulled up on deck by Johnny, leading them on a rope threaded through their bound wrists with another man encouraging them from behind.
“Clarette, oh, Clarette please do something,” Maria wailed as she was dragged by.
“Clarette is otherwise occupied just now,” Deegan smiled as the girls were pulled towards the back railing. The pirate vessel had approached and boarded from the stern after disabling the rudder, thus remaining out of the field of fire of the frigate’s cannons. The bulky ship could not hope to turn quickly enough to outmaneuver the pirate schooner.
Clarette continued to struggle to get away from the man, while her tear filled eyes took in the carnage surrounding her. It had been a most vicious battle. With his hand still wound through her hair, Deegan led her across the deck between the bodies of the fallen crew, at least those that had not already been dispatched to the sea and to the sharks splashing in frenzy at the unexpected fare. When she saw the Captain sprawled on his back with his hand still gripping his sword, her composure shattered at the realization of her circumstances and she sobbed.
Deegan resulted to forcefully pushing her along with his other hand spread across the small of her back while she screamed and clawed at the fist buried in her brown tresses. The pirate gripped harder, causing her to shriek, and when Clarette reached the back rail, her arms locked around it.
“Such a fuss, girl,” he laughed as he pried her hands loose and threw the wailing girl over his shoulder to climb aboard his schooner. “Quartermaster, tie her off.” Deegan tossed her in Johnny’s direction and left to give orders to untether the lines from the frigate and place their treasure in the hold.
Clarette was trembling by the side rail and her eyes widened slightly when she recognized one of the chests being carried below. It was the second of her two trunks… the one her uncle had insisted she deliver to her father. She had no idea what it contained as there had been a heavy padlock sealing the lid. Now, it swung loose and open from the hinge. Her other trunk, the one containing her personal effects, had not been transported to the pirates’ vessel.
As the schooner quickly set sail, Deegan gave one last longing look at the frigate. Though the Téméraire was larger and sported seventy-four guns, it was bulky and had a deep hull. It would neither be able to quickly maneuver around their prey nor be able to navigate the shoals his schooner could manage with barely an eight foot draft. He pulled his gaze away and returned his attention to the heavy chests being carried below.
The manifest they had bribed a man handily for, told of the valuables being transported back to France to aid in the war, from the prosperous sugar cane plantations. With a revolution on Haiti imminent, Deegan had not been overly surprised to see separate luggage, the private plantation owners’ trunks of wealth, being transported back to families in Europe in case the Haitian immigrants from France had to bid a hasty farewell to the island.
His dark eyes swept the deck to the seven women huddled by the side rails being carefully guarded by Johnny. Now, this piece of treasure had been a surprise to the pirates, as none of them has been on the passenger list. Deegan stared at Clarette, and he decided the young woman was more than intriguing with her fine figure, mahogany hair, and eyes as blue-green as the sea around him.
Clarette had been wiping at her tears with her bound hands when they were not holding tightly to Maria’s, and she kept her eyes lowered to the deck. She almost felt a piercing sensation, and she raised her eyes to see the frightening pirate Captain gazing at her with the unmistakable signs of growing lust. Clarette was not immune to these stares, as she had received them on occasion since her seventeenth birthday two years ago. She shuddered and moved further back behind her friends, trying to go unnoticed while continuing to watch as his expression turned to a lascivious smile.
Deegan strode towards her and was rewarded by her whimpering terror as he untied her leather binding, releasing her from the throng of other women. She sobbed as he grasped her arm and dragged her to her feet, leading her towards the stern and to his quarters. Deegan called over his shoulder, “Johnny, I leave the rest of this treasure for you to distribute fairly.”
The other crewmembers were housed below deck where the stench was unbearable from filthy bilge water and rotting food. Deegan had converted a small part of the hold into six cabins for his men to take turns with. When not allowed this relatively luxury, the others slept in the dank, fetid recesses of the remainder of the cramped hold, or on deck if the weather allowed. Deegan’s own quarters under the helm afforded a cross draft through the side portholes to air it out.
Clarette was now shrieking and frantically trying to break free from the strong man. He opened the heavy door to the cabin and tossed her inside. She turned immediately, and tried to break past him to get back on deck… back to her friends… but she stopped abruptly when Deegan’s hand smashed across her cheek. Clarette froze, and she stared up into his fierce eyes in wonder. No one had ever struck her before.
Deegan closed the door and leaned back against it, folding his arms across his chest and giving the girl a quizzical look. Clarette came to her senses, realized she could not force her way out of the only available exit, and searched wildly around the small room for a weapon. A pocket dagger was lying on the desk where Deegan had tossed it after deciding to leave it behind for the battle, feeling it would be unnecessary. He saw her eyes dilate when she caught the reflection off the dirk’s surface of a sunbeam through the porthole.
Clarette dived for the weapon, grasped it, and brandished it with all the bravery she could muster. She was terrified and it shook while she waved it at him with her trembling hand. The pirate remained propped against the closed door, impressed by the young girl’s fortitude. She was a worthy prize. In a swift move, he advanced on her in two long strides and twisted her wrist, catching the dagger before it dropped to the floor. “Thank you for retrieving my little knife, Clarette,” he said ominously.
He spun her around and held her tight against his chest with one arm while the hand with the knife reached towards her throat. He slipped the blade under the neckline of her gown, and Clarette heard the material tear to the sharp edge. When she began to once again fight him, Deegan reached his hand to her neck, lifting her slightly so she was forced to rise to her toes and occupy her shaking hands in trying to remove his choking hold. With her thus distracted, Deegan resumed unwrapping his treasure. When the dress was sliced through to the waistband so that only her thin chemise covered her panting breasts, he pocketed the knife and pulled the garment off her raised arms.
Clarette was still fighting for air as she felt a coarse hand cup her breast, and she wailed, “Please… I have a fiancé waiting for me in France.”
“I’m afraid that France is not our destination, Clarette,” he chuckled.
Clarette knew that she would be taken to the lawless pirate stronghold of Tortuga, barely five miles from the northwest coast of Haiti. The island had changed alliances between the Spanish, French and English with an occasional outburst from the Dutch, and although most of the buccaneers who had been working for the government had been ordered disbanded decades ago. With no promise of work, they had turned from their once legal trade of plundering from the Spanish galleons to private enterprise. With legends and stories of heroics and riches at sea, there were still those like Deegan who yearned for the Golden Age of Piracy.
Deegan planned on spending three more days at sea before turning and following the course of the Windward Passage, which ran between Haiti and Cuba, and returning to their stronghold. Now, with such unexpected bounty, he had to consider whether there might be a second ship following in support.
The flesh in his hand was soft and full, and the violent man decided the few extra days at sea could prove to be enjoyable. He released the girl’s breast, and in one move he ripped her chemise to the waist where it hesitated a brief moment before sliding over her hips to the floor. Clarette’s hands abandoned his grip on her throat and she tried to cover her breasts and her sex while she stood in only her stockings and her shoes.
The pirate finally released her to stand back and take in the figure of his treasure. Even in such woeful disarray, she was quite certainly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. When his hands moved to his buttons to begin disrobing, Clarette charged him, not giving thought to the repercussions of exiting onto the deck of a pirate vessel in her present state of undress.
Deegan stood to his full six foot three height and once again threaded his fingers through her hair, holding her at arm’s length. He was growing tired of her struggles, and he scowled at her and pushed her onto the bed. Clarette tried to scramble to the corner and Deegan grabbed her ankle. She kicked him in the chest with one booted foot and shrieked when his strong hand smacked down on her bottom, leaving a red stinging print on both cheeks of her ass.
Deegan resumed undressing, and every time the girl moved he grabbed her ankle to pull her back and administer another hardy slap on her fleshy globes. Clarette wailed in agony and finally lay still, shuddering and squeezing her eyes tightly closed while envisioning herself on her tropical beach with the unknown man she was to marry… a man, she realized, who bore a striking resemblance to the pirate captain tormenting her.
If it were not for his disagreeable vicious nature, Deegan was a fine figure of a man, with not a spare inch wasted on anything but lean, bronze muscle. His penetrating dark eyes were almost black with intensity, and the Caribbean tan set off his white teeth which shown briefly between his mustache and beard when he leered at her. His black hair was wavy and hung well past his shoulders, and as they had only been a full day at sea, other than the masculine sweat from the recent battle, he was clean. With fresh water at a premium on ships, pirates had the reputation of being covered in grime and vermin.
Clarette continued to whimper into the coverlet, and she pulled her foot away as the naked pirate reached to remove her boot. Deegan smiled when he saw her rosy ass clench tightly in preparation for the sting of his hand. He did not disappoint her, and after the blow he brushed his fingers across her flesh, enjoying the heat. She slumped, defeated, while he removed her other shoe and her stockings.
He stretched out on top of her and Clarette felt the soft curls of his chest hair on her shoulder blades. He whispered in her ear, “You have been quite disobedient, Clarette, but do you really feel our first intimate moment should have me enjoying the tight virgin depths of your tempting bottom?” He felt her stiffen beneath him.
Deegan’s sadistic tortures went far beyond mere physical punishment. The sense of power he felt when his prey chose ther own torment was a true aphrodisiac for him, and it heightened his pleasure immensely. Toying with the little French girl with her petulant, pouty, full lips and incredible watery eyes had his cock throbbing to bursting proportions. His hand pushed between their bodies and his finger traveled down the crevice of her bottom, pressing at her constricted puckered star. “I feel generous, petite sorcière de la mer. You are just that… a little witch of the sea. Which will it be, Clarette? I am already in position, and my restraint is waning.”
Clarette stuttered, “Please, Captain. Please don’t hurt me.” She sobbed when she felt his stiff rod jerk against her bottom in erotic response to her despair. Her options were limited, as Clarette knew that the Captain would no doubt eventually do this evil thing to her, and she weighed her chances of getting away. If he sodomized her, and she were rescued, she could still arrive in France to her fiancé intact. The chances were dismally remote that would be the case, so to save herself what was sure to be insurmountable pain, Clarette began to turn over.
Deegan was pleased. With the disparity of their physical sizes, it would have been a dangerous battle if he took her, the first time at least, with no cooperation. He straightened his arms and hovered over her with his long hair almost brushing her breasts. She stared at the dark curls across his chest as she felt his impossible size breach her entrance.
Her hands clenched into tight fists as the pain added to her fear, and then she involuntarily gripped his shoulders, digging deep with her nails. The pirate watched as she closed her eyes and her bottom lip trembled. Her dusky nipples tightened, and his fingers pinched and pulled them to an even firmer state as he thrust within her tight, moist passage. His body craved release, and he was so aroused in his own passion that it was a moment before he noticed the girl had stopped crying. He registered the sensation of her walls gripping his cock with pulsing contractions that were an unexpected precursor to her own climax.
Little gasps escaped her parted lips as her channel convulsed around him, milking him so completely that Deegan felt as though his very soul had been emptied. An uneasy, unaccustomed sensation flowed through him, and he quickly deserted her pussy and sat up. The pirate did not like this unbalanced feeling, and he silently blamed the French girl for perhaps being the very witch he had accused her of.
He rose to the desk and removed some coarse hemp twine, bringing it back to where the girl whimpered in confusion at her body’s responses to the vile act. Deegan pulled her up and tied her wrists behind her, and then he secured her elbows so they were almost touching. Clarette was wracked with sobbing cries when the pirate continued with the rope, wrapping it first under and then around each of her breasts, so they swelled out from her frame obscenely. He pushed her back onto her stomach and tied her ankles together, and then bent them up so her heels rested on her bottom from where he fastened them to her wrists. Leaving her painfully trussed, he dressed and left the cabin without saying a word.
Clarette cried herself to sleep, lying on her side with her breasts becoming agonizingly pained until they dulled to a numb throb. When she opened her eyes it was morning, and she found Deegan stretched out beside her, softly snoring and fully clothed. His eyes quickly opened as if he had felt her stare.
Deegan sat up and reached into the side drawer of his desk. When he turned, he was holding an unusual stiff leather ring with two long, knotted strips trailing from the bottom of it. Attempting to move back from the curious device, Clarette gasped at the pain of her now purpled breasts. The pirate traced her full lips with his finger and said, “Perhaps it is only your cunt that bewitches me.”
Clarette’s eyes bulged with terror as Deegan held her jaw and forced the ring behind her teeth. She shook her head and wailed through the opening, and on her first swallow the strips traveled down her throat causing her empty stomach to heave and retch. The man’s eyes were frighteningly alive with desire as he removed his already stretched rod from his pants, gripped the sides of her face and plunged deep into her throat.
Clarette gagged and gulped air on his retreat, wailing her displeasure at his abuse. She felt him become impossibly thicker, completely blocking her air passage, and the large sack occasionally slapping against her chin became firm. Just as the first salty, liquid deposit hit her throat, Deegan used the dirk to cut the hemp binding her breasts, and she shrieked arousing vibrations as he finished his eruption.
Deegan was unfamiliar with the emotions this little French girl stirred to the surface from some place deep within his black heart, and he obsessed with the thought of keeping her as his slave consort. How the pirates on Tortuga would seethe with envy at his petite sorcière de la mer with her Caribbean eyes. Deegan sealed his withering cock behind his breeches and untied his new woman. The possessive yearning was disconcerting to him, but his need to own every part of his treasure conflicted with his usual steadfast nature.
The women were brought on deck and bound with heavy iron manacles to the fore boom. For hours they hung naked in the hot sun, balancing on the balls of their feet or hanging from their wrists and too tired to offer more than an occasional mewling whimper. By early afternoon, three of the sets of irons hung empty, the girls vanquished mostly from the pirates’ tortures throughout the night. It was agreed by the crew that Barton, Tommy and Richard would not receive the pleasures of the remaining women, because it was their harsh treatment that had led to the waste of three of their treasures thrown over the side.
Throughout the day, Deegan had approached Clarette and swept his hands over her exhausted form, roughly squeezing her bottom and whispering, “Tonight… tonight I will own all of you.”
Just after noon, the pain and terror had become overwhelming and Clarette found herself drifting into the chants and spiral dancing of the mystical women of the island. It was becoming difficult to focus on her current situation, and when Deegan finally approached her to bring her back to his cabin for his promised torment, she once again fell into a trance, pleading with the women on the island to help her… and they answered.
Deegan had stopped a few feet away from his swaying prize when her eyes focused in a blank stare at some vision he could not see. Then, she looked up… up to the foresail… passed that to the fore topsail… and her voice began a singsong chant. Two of the pirates listening crossed themselves as the clouds gathered into a solid mass to block out the sun. The formerly rolling seas around them were now rocking the boat and whitecaps were forming on the tops of the waves.
Clarette’s eyes narrowed and she looked at Deegan… then, through the pirate… and in a calm voice, she said, “Every half century you will sail these seas, forever the pirate. Your crew will number seven, a man’s soul for each of ours, and although you will amass great riches, you will find yourself exiled to a paradise where all your ill gotten treasures are worthless.” Clarette closed her eyes and hung her head.
One of the pirates screamed, and the crew looked towards the bow at a waterspout forming directly in the path of the schooner. Johnny gripped Deegan’s shoulders in terror. “She has cursed us, Captain. The very skies and the seas have turned against us.”
Deegan replied tensely, “Nonsense, Johnny. They are only the words of a frightened girl.”
The schooner listed dangerously to the side and Deegan reached out, grabbing Clarette’s manacles to brace himself. She remained silently facing the deck, and when the ship righted itself, Deegan turned to see water clearing the deck through the scuttles, and fully half of the crew missing from the ship were screaming from where they had been swept into the wild surf.
Immediately the schooner was hit from the other side, and when the boat once again righted itself, Deegan counted the last six pirates who remained. He turned to demand what curse Clarette had summoned, and he found himself hanging onto empty manacles. When his eyes scanned the fore boom, the other empty irons rang thinly in the breeze.
Within minutes the skies cleared and the wind calmed, and the panicked skeleton crew decided to make haste for Tortuga, and forget the two extra days at sea. Try as they might, they sailed the Windward Passage for weeks… and never saw land.
Chapter I
Pirate Week
Monique stretched and reached blindly to the empty pillow beside her. She opened her eyes and struggled to sit up, just as her husband exited the bathroom, cleanly shaven and in his white boxers and tee shirt.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up,” Frank said, as he made his way to the large walk-in closet.
“I thought maybe we would spend the morning together before you have to take off,” Monique yawned. She slipped her feet over the side of the bed and knew the possibility of any morning hanky panky was out of the question. Frank was already in ‘daytime mode’.
“You know how it is, honey. There are a few last minute crises I have to clear up at the office, and I’ll be leaving to the airport from there. It’s difficult enough breaking away for two weeks for this meeting, and all the partners have to be present. Things are going to be a mess when we get back.”
Monique could picture him standing in front of his many sets of identical navy blue suits with a dozen white shirts, the only non-color Frank wore, hanging beside them with ties smoothed over the shoulders. On the floor were three sets of matching black leather Italian loafers, ensuring Monique would have time to keep a pair polished to a mirrored shine available at all times. Frank was nothing if not efficient. When he exited the closet, he hung his suit coat on the valet and stood before the long mirror to knot his tie.
“Where did you say your were going?” Monique asked. He had not gotten home until after she was asleep the night before, and he had been ‘considerate’ enough not to disturb her when he woke at dawn.
“We’re going to the Middle East to finalize some more oil contracts. Larry and Bill are going to check out the rigs we have in place, and Lee and I are going to try to work out a way to use their safety standards instead of the States’. It would save us a fortune, though we might have to agree to use more local labor.”
Monique winced. Within the past six months, four men had been injured on what she suspected was substandard rigging, and still the partners were looking at the profit margin first. Frank had put on his dark suit coat and was picking at imaginary lint.
Monique rose and placed herself between him and the mirror. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head against his chest for a moment before looking up at him. “Are you sure you can’t at least spend the morning with me?” She gave her prettiest, full lipped, little French girl pout that sometimes enticed him just enough to think twice. Not this time, though.
Frank kissed the top of her head and gently pushed her away. She watched him pull a strand of long blonde hair off his suit coat, and without looking at her he replied, “I’ll be back before you know it. Besides, didn’t you girls say your were going on a cruise or something?”
“We’re sailing, Frank. We’re taking Hannah’s boat to the Cayman’s for some festival called ‘Pirate’s Week’.”
“That sounds like fun, and the Simmons’s boat is a beauty. Who’s piloting for you?”
Monique was exasperated. She had already discussed this with him four times over the past month, and she knew he was paying just as little attention to her explanations this time. “We’re sailing her ourselves, Frank. Five of us spent every summer through high school in a sailing club, so we’ll be fine. It just might be a little bit difficult to reach us until we get on island.”